l68 EUROPE AT PLAY

haunt the Palace Hotel in the winter for the crumbs
which fall: they retire to the cool of the trees in the
mountains in the heat of the summer, and eat the cater-
pillars off the leaves. It is lovely here in the summer
months; I am told the Alpine flowers are the best in
Switzerland,

One remembers that before taking the express from
Coire on departure there is the 4,000 feet descent in the
mountain railway from St. Moritz. For those whose ears
are badly affected by a quick descent this journey is not
always pleasant: local knowledge has to be consulted.
M. Badrutt, jun. (St. Moritz is ruled by Badrutts and
Bons), once told me to get out at each stop and walk
about, and keep the windows of the carriage well open
—excellent advice, but, unfortunately, the train never
stopped once on its descent. However, open windows
and deep breathing saved the situation.

Even after only a day or two in St. Moritz one is sorry
to leave faces which have become familiar so soon. In
the hall of the hotel before departure, where M. Badrutt,
sen., gives away a souvenir of your visit (exclusive of
the bill), the call to the bar is already sounding, and
about to answer it one sees Sir Keith and Lady Fraser,
Sonia Lady Horlick, Mrs. John Moffat who with Mrs*
Leonard Govett competes annually for the "sitting-
up-late-at-night" championship, Conrad Veidt, Mr,
Michael Farmer, Dr. Henri Dreyfus, and the platinum
blonde.

The last-mentioned is a touchingly romantic figure
who sits in the hall of the Palace Hotel most of the day
with her expensive head on the broad shoulder of an
expansive Swiss. He went away for a day recently: she
cried and looked so sad during his absence, but on the